Rolling on the river

Here are long overdue photos from our weekend trip to Brookings/Gold Beach! We camped in Brookings at a really nice state park, then drove to Gold Beach to ride the famous jet boats at Jerry's Rogue Jets! They still deliver the mail upriver — that's how remote this area is. And the boats take you through all that remote wilderness, which would be difficult to see otherwise.

You can take longer, rapid-running trips, or a shorter, leisurely trip. We did the shorter one, mostly because it was cheaper. But I feel we need to do a longer trip at some point — it sounds like so much fun, and you get so deep into the woods.

Here's the Gold Beach bridge from the boat at the start. We saw a guy hook his first salmon when we drove by him! There were tons of anglers out there, fishing for Chinook salmon.

Further upriver, we came across a ridiculous amount of osprey (as well as other wildlife I couldn't get pics of — lots of deer, and one black bear)! Here's a couple osprey up in a tree, guarding their nest.

The trip was about 40 miles upriver, and the scenery pretty much looked just like this the whole way (with the occasional bank fisherman waving as we passed). There were tons of salmon rolling in the river.

And you know powerlines that have those colored floats on them that always span rivers? Well, we passed a few of them, and our guide said they released salt to help the salmon acclimate to the freshwater in the river.

That's obviously ridiculous. Salmon have been here far before we figured their life cycles out. But too many people in that boat completely believed him. Hilarious.

Here's the view from dinner, where we had an awesome blackberry cobbler. I could eat it every day, truthfully. But it's in Agness, population less than 100, and it would take hours to drive there along the Agness Highway from U.S. Highway 101. Hours.

Our boat, from the bank of the river. We were enjoying nature before we hopped back on the boat — it was HOT there.

Another view from where we ate dinner. There were tons of incredible house along the river as well, but I don't have photos, sorry. Some of them are only accessible by boat, if you can believe it.

View back upriver as we headed back toward the ocean. Just a perfect day.

And the bridge, with fewer fishermen, as we made our way to dock.

When we got back, we were met by this gorgeous sunset at Harris Beach State Park. We stuck around for awhile before heading back to camp.

On our way home the next day, we stopped at Whaleshead Beach, a park just north of Brookings, that I was recommended to see. It was incredible. Nice wide beach, warm sun and incredible vistas. Did I mention there was basically nobody there?

And the waves crashed thunderously on the beach heading south, creating this enchanting mist. It was a wonderful way to stretch our legs before the long drive home.

My first fish

I went ocean fishing for a story, thanks to Betty Kay Charters out of Charleston. First of all, they are just the NICEST people. Seriously. And so helpful, even for beginners.

So you have to get up super early — I had to be there before 6 a.m. Ugh. I was tired and a bit nervous I wouldn't catch anything. That was silly thinking.

Once we got to our first fishing spot (they have fish finders in the boats so they know exactly where the rockfish are hiding), we were taught how to let out the line until it hits the bottom. As soon as Captain Kathi was done showing me, my line had a bite. My first cast.

I reeled and reeled and reeled and reeled, and when I was too tired to fight this fish, I reeled some more. I was breathing hard as if I'd been running, and my arms were burning. When I finally pulled the fish above the water line, Bam Bam (the deck hand, he was great) netted it and flopped it on the deck.

It was huge. And it was eating another fish. Both were ling cod, the best of the best for these rockfishing trips. I had hooked the smaller fish, but it was too small too keep. Luckily, the big one wasn't letting go of its breakfast, because she got tossed right in my bucket!

Many hours and different fishing spots later, I had my limit of seven rockfish, plus one ling cod. We scooted back to the dock, and they rushed my fish to get weighed. Twenty-nine pounds. Twenty-nine pounds of delicious fish.

Here's the beast, barely fitting in my bucket full of other fish.

A nice guy named James, who was on the same boat and took my pic with the fish after it got weighed, held open its mouth for me. Those teeth are sharp.

Here's me with my fish! Lots of people were taking my picture, and even more were stopping by and asking me about it. Beginner's luck, I tell ya.

Overall, that was one of the most fun things I've ever done for my job (yeah, I was clocked in while I was on the water). I can't wait to do it again.

Fruitless fishing

Last Friday was a perfect example of why I love this job. To do a story on a fishing guide, he gladly allowed me to tag along on one of his guided boats, and we went to the Umpqua River, which flows half an hour north of the Bay Area.

It was foggy. It was early. Like, 6 a.m. early. We couldn't see the other side of the river, and we launched almost silently, save for his boat's motor.

Here's Rick and his dog, Molly, who was trying to get the bubbles coming from the motor. She was adorable — couldn't wait to get a fish.

U.S. Highway 101 bridge, behind the fog.

Got to watch the sun rise and burn off the fog — incredible feeling.

And by the end of the morning, it looked like this. I got some sun (mostly on my ears and hands, since they were basically the only parts exposed). What we didn't get was fish. Not a bite. Not a nibble. Nothing.

Rick couldn't believe it. The conditions were right. The bait was nice. He's done this his whole life, so he certainly wasn't mistaken. Sometimes the fish just aren't hungry, I suppose.

His boat caught 10 fish the next day. And he nabbed a 40-pound salmon on Monday. The luck of the outdoors writer — perhaps their fishy friends warned them about all the spawning (and necessary killing) I'd done at the hatcheries. Oh well, it still wasn't a bad way to work for six hours on the clock.

Redding, Calif.

We began our vacation with an extremely wet (but beautiful) drive through the Siskiyou mountains down into California. No pics of the drive, but we did stop at Castle Crags State Park before we hit Redding, our final destination.

Behind those clouds is a snowy Mt. Shasta. We drove past it, but couldn't quite see all of it. Sorry, no pics of that either, but it's an impressive mountain.

Here's Castle Crags, which are granite. Apparently you can hike/rock climb to the top. We opted out of that one.

The following day, we hit Whiskeytown Lake National Recreation Area, which was just west of Redding. It's an old mining town (now the name makes sense, huh?), and has some old, broken down brick buildings left. There's always tons of hiking, horse riding and water sports happening around the lake, but most hiking trails were very quiet and secluded.

Here's a shot of the lake, which was peppered with sailboats, and Shasta Bally mountain, which has a bit of snow at the tippy top.

We started with a nearly four-mile hike along the old Shasta Mine Trail. It was beautiful and difficult, with tons of sun, interesting flora and views.

Former mines are fenced in and adorned with these signs. I found them humorous.

These trees were everywhere, and I fell in love with them. Their bark was dark and smooth.

After that hike, we stopped and ate lunch (PB and honey sandwiches, trail mix and fruit snacks. Oh, and TONS of water). Then we drove to the other side of the lake along a ridiculous, unpaved road to get to some waterfalls.

Here's Crystal Creek Falls, which was a short jaunt (we needed a rest). We sat on some rocks right at the base of the falls, with the clear, turquoise water flowing around us. The sun was warm and inviting; thank goodness we wore sunscreen.

Then we made a bad decision. We decided to go to Whiskeytown Falls a little down the road, and the map's hike didn't look too long. No biggie, right? Well we got there, and the hike was nearly two miles. No biggie again. Then we started walking.

We quickly realized that it was nearly two miles almost completely uphill. And we were already tired. And hot. And probably dehydrated a little. But we kept going to see if the hike got easier. It didn't.

Then we reached a point where it would be ridiculous to come this far and not see the falls, so we soldiered on, taking tons of breaks. Then we heard rushing water, and...

We made it! Luckily the water was icy and a breezy mist coming off the falls cooled us off, which energized us for the walk back. But man, we didn't hardly move the rest of the night.

After the hike, we trolled around for food, finding this little Mexican joint that had killer salsa and gave us a large amount of leftovers for our lunch the following day (when we were driving to San Francisco).

That was Redding! It was a beautiful town surrounded by mountains, and our hotel gave us a voucher for breakfast, instead of offering a continental. WHAT A GOOD IDEA. We ate at Lumberjacks, ordering from the pre-determined menu for hotel-stayers. Breakfast and coffee were awesome both mornings, fueling us for the day.

Coming next, our visit to San Francisco!

Day Two: Stranded

On the next day, we got up suuuuper early and bought two of the last three tickets available for the early boat ride. That's right, a boat ride around Crater Lake. For $38, you get a boat tour on the way to Wizard Island, the famous little volcano island in the middle of Crater Lake. You can choose to stay on Wizard Island for three hours and hike, or continue on with the tour of the lake. Boooooring. We stayed on the island.

But first, you must hike down this steep, dusty trail to Cleetwood Cove, which is 700 feet down to the lakeshore. It's small and rocky there, but it's nice to sit there along the super blue water.

Then we hopped on the boat, and got schooled on some Crater Lake knowledge. That I probably couldn't recite because I was too worried about being enamored with the blue-ness of the lake (I was convinced it HAD to look less blue when you get up close -- not true) and sweating from intense heat.

We were told it was going to be COLD. And it was chilly that morning, but there were no clouds, and the sun was a-shining. Needless to say, we quickly stripped off our outer layers before we even got to Wizard Island.

So we got to Wizard Island, which was awesome. They dropped us off and basically said there's no way to contact them at all unless it's an emergency and we broke this glass case to get a key to get into a locker which had a radio in it. Serious stuff.

But we decided we were going to hike to the top of the volcano, and were equipped with water and lunch for the summit. Here's a view on the way up.

And the thin air got to us, so it took awhile. But eventually, we summitted, and here's the crater of a volcano!

OK, so it's difficult to tell it's a crater. But it was and it was deep and big. But the view from the top was amazing! Here we are, tired but happy.

Fumerole Bay. It's apparently a good place to swim, though I wasn't swimming in the 50-degree water. Some did though. I just enjoyed how beautiful the water was. Take that, tropical islands. I'll take a volcano-turned-lake-upon-massive-explosion any day. It's only fed by rain and snowmelt (it snowed there not long after we left! EEK!), so it's unreal clean.

When it came time for the boat to pick us up, we all met on the dock, waiting. The sun was warm (OK, hot) and the water was cool. We used up all our water, and I was ready for the rest of the lake tour, hike back to the top of the caldera and a yummy, campfire dinner.

The view from the dock, where about 50 people were gathered. My camera is mere inches above that famous blue water.

But. But, but, but. The boat was supposed to return at 1:30. We sat. 1:30 came and went. Then 1:45. Then 2:00. Then I became readily aware that my skin was baking like it hadn't baked before. We were a lot closer to the sun than I was used to. And the boat was nowhere. In fact, no boat had lapped the lake since we had been there. The natives were restless. And a little concerned that we would be stranded.

Around 3:00, a boat magically appeared, and everyone was excited. My skin was hot, I was thirsty and hunger was attempting to set in. We had only brought enough to stay until 1:30!

So the park ranger hops off the boat, and everyone was excited to get back on. But. They were having technical difficulties with one of their three boats (though we're still questioning how one of the other boats couldn't pick us up), and couldn't get us and had no way of communicating that. Awesome.

But. There were four dudes toting fishing poles on the other side of the island. They had planned to stay twice as long as the rest of us so they could fish (fish aren't native to the lake, obviously, since there's no actual water source running into the lake). Unfortunately, we had to wait for them to hike from the other side of the island, since they wouldn't be taking another tour out that day. We also didn't get to finish the lake tour, but we didn't care. 

Once those fishermen got back, we were ready to go, and not looking forward to the rather steep and difficult hike we were faced with to get to our car.

Luckily, we took our hiking shoes off once we got back to the cove, and cooled off our feet before we attempted the hike. Here's the water up close.

That's a family of swimmers. The dad was French, and very so. Thick French accent, counting in French and an innate ability to get naked just about anywhere. Apparently he didn't feel the need to wear his swim "trunks" (more like underwear) under his shorts -- he just stripped down right there with people around. Thank goodness he wrapped a sweatshirt around his waist, though it was far from modest.

The boat that rescued us from the volcano island.

During this time, a major headache (most likely brought upon lack of water and too much sun) set in for me. The hike up was nearly unbearable, and I was never so happy to chug down the Gatorade we were smart to bring on the trip. Despite being stranded, it was a gorgeous experience, and a fun story in the least. 

Also, I have a nice souvenir from the adventure. Peeling sunburn. I've never peeled this much before. As I've never had sunburn like this before. Had we KNOWN it was going to be as hot as Hades on the lake (we were informed high of 50), I would have known to wear sunscreen and I would have known that my sweatshirt would most certainly not be protecting my arms. Ugh.

Day One (or more like, Evening One): Sunset

As if the Rim Drive wasn't enough, we got super excited and went on a ranger-led hike listed in the brochure: a sunset hike to Watchman's Peak.

Since we were embarrassed about our abilities (or lack thereof) to breathe in the thin air, we left a little before the ranger-led group. The hike climbed to more than 7,000 feet, which is awful thin in my lungs' book. It didn't take us long, though it was steep. Once we got to the top, we knew why this hike was so popular, despite its difficult nature.

Here, looking south toward Klamath Falls. We believe the shadow of that giant mountain in the right center of the photo is Mount Shasta.

A look at the parking lot from above (and with a little zoom, otherwise you wouldn't be able to tell it was a parking lot full of cars).

Watchman's Peak (which houses a small building that's still used to spot wildfires in the forest) offers great views of Crater Lake and the Cascade Mountain range to the west. As we were patiently (and coldly) waiting for sunset, the moon was rising from the other direction.

A misty look to the northwest: some Cascade foothills in the near-sunset light.

The sun begins to set just above the Cascades.

As the sun sets, a pinkish hue rises beyond a glassy Crater Lake and lights the moon. It was incredible.

The colors were intoxicating, and photos do an awful job of portraying them. But I love the look of the mountain silhouettes against the vibrant oranges. 

If I could paint, I would paint this. This is what met us after we hiked back down and stood in the parking lot, not wanting to leave, but really wanting to crank up the heat in the car.

Also, this. The moonlight reflected in Crater Lake. If it looks like a painting in the photo, it's because it looked like a painting in person. Overwhelming.

Next up: getting stranded and burnt crispy on the volcano.

P.S. If you click the pictures, they pop up bigger. I realize these are kind of small, and they might be best viewed by clicking.